


In the Stacks

by karlbourbon



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karlbourbon/pseuds/karlbourbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people are able to find privacy in the library. Jim doesn't have the same luck as most people, and by extension, neither does Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Stacks

“Dammit Jim,” Len growls as he snaps his comm closed. He’s been trying to reach Jim for the better part of an hour now, but no response. They have plans for the night (or Len hopes they still do)—greasy, overcooked Chinese takeout and studying for their upcoming Interspecies Protocol test. Granted those are their plans most nights, but since they started dating a few months ago, the night ends with sex more often than not. Len really hopes they still have plans. Jim would have told him if something had changed, right?

Well, Len has cold, oily noodles and a stack of PADDS, but no Jim. Rather than bash himself in the face reading all the ways he can possibly offend a Tellarite (and pissed that he was stood up and left to study alone), Len decides to remedy that and sets off to hunt down the bastard.

oOo

He’s checked all the places he usually does when searching for Jim—his dorm, Gaila’s room, the cafeteria, the gym—and he’s just leaving the damn planetarium for Christ’s sake when it hits him. _The library._ It’s so glaringly obvious that Len actually stops and slaps his palm against his forehead, growling out a frustrated _dammit_ so fierce it sends the cadets walking nearby scurrying away like mice. Despite popular belief, Jim actually spends a lot of his time studying. Not only does he soak up information like a sponge, but he remembers it all too. (Len would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a tiny bit jealous).

Angry at himself that he didn’t even think of checking the library first (or second), Len stomps off to seek Jim out and explain the many uses of a comm—such as calling to cancel plans or say “Sorry honey, I’ll be late tonight.”

oOo

Jim is not a creature of habit. He is all for the new—new places, new experiences, new people. He’s always chasing a new drink or a new bar or a new dare. New, new, new. Len doesn’t understand it; there’s nothing wrong with the same old haunt, especially when _new_ seems to land Jim in trouble more than not. Routine works; it’s safe and it’s comfortable.

Even someone as unpredictable as Jim has habits, and Len is grateful for that now; Jim always goes to the same niche of the library. It’s far away from the main crowd, which is probably why no one knows how much time Jim actually spends there. If Len didn’t know any better, he’d say Jim sleeps there, too (but he does know better because most mornings he wakes up with their limbs tangled together). There are big, comfy chairs and a large table in the corner and it’s surrounded by honest to God bookshelves. When so much of everything can be looked up on the computer and downloaded to a PADD, having real books around is a privilege. Len has caught Jim (more than once) running a finger across old, worn pages, leaning his face down and inhaling the musty smell of the leather-bound paper with a pleased smile. Len has been fortunate enough to have grown up around books so he doesn’t share the same attitude towards them as Jim, but seeing him like that, unabashedly happy over such a miniscule thing, makes Len’s heart ache in the best possible way.

Finding Jim right where he thought he would be brings Len up short. His irritation fades away and he feels a little guilty for getting all worked up over the whole thing. Jim is asleep; he’s curled up in one of the plush armchairs, head bent awkwardly to rest on the desk. There are books stacked haphazardly on the table and at first glance they don’t even seem related—linguistics, stellar cartography, Terran history; Jim’s head is pillowed on a thick volume that, judging from the diagram on the open page, Len is able to surmise is on black holes. Jim’s glasses are lopsided on his face and it looks so uncomfortable that Len isn’t sure how Jim is managing to stay asleep at all. Len chuckles and snaps a holo with his comm that—if anyone were to find it—he swears will be for blackmail.

“Darlin, wake up,” Len says, gently shaking Jim’s shoulder.

Jim shoots up almost immediately and mutters, “Whozit?” One side of his hair is completely flattened from using the book as a pillow and there’s a spot of drool on the corner of his mouth. He looks like a confused puppy. Len just laughs again and steps back to take another holo.

“Bones?” Jim asks, taking off his glasses and blinking the sleep from his eyes. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth to rub away the drool. “What’re you doin’ here?” His mouth feels stuffed full of cotton. He raises his arms above his head and stretches, shirt hem riding up to reveal a strip of pale skin.

“Lookin’ for you, infant,” Len says. He tries to ignore the flip-flopping feeling in his stomach as he watches Jim stretch, but really, it can’t be helped, and he has to tell himself to _breathe, dammit_ to keep the butterflies down.

Jim yawns wide, like a lion, flashing brilliantly white teeth. “Why— Oh, shit!” His arms crash back down to his side and he fumbles across the desk in search of his comm. “Sorry, Bones,” he says sheepishly when he sees the time and missed calls. “I set an alarm, but I must have slept through it.”

Len quirks an eyebrow. “You plannin’ to sleep at the library?”

Jim runs a hand over his hair making it stick up in soft little tufts. “Nah, just didn’t wanna lose track of time like I ended up doing anyways.”

Len nods towards the desk, curious. “What’re you working on?” he asks.

Jim’s eyes light up like Len just told him he won the lottery. He gestures excitedly as he explains he had started on homework, but got bored after finishing, so he started reading up on some other subjects. Len catches himself focusing more on the sound of Jim’s voice than listening to the words he’s saying. 

“-see, if it emits X-rays along with pulses, that’s how you know it contains a neutron star. Isn’t that cool, Bones?”

From what Len heard, Jim has been talking a mile a minute, interspersed with a bunch of techno-babble that he really only understood half of, but he smiles and nods anyways. “Very cool, Jim. You’ll have to explain it to me more in-depth later. Maybe slower.” Jim gives a half smile in apology.

Len feels a change in the air; it’s growing heavier by the second, the calm before the storm. Jim abruptly pushes away from the table and stands up; his gaze flicks to Len, who feels a thrill zing down his spine—Jim looks predatory, a cat about to pounce. He grabs Len’s hand and tugs him along behind as he walks hurriedly, twisting deeper into the stacks of books.

“Where the hell are we goin’?” Len barks.

Jim looks over his shoulder and smirks. “This is my favorite spot in the library,” he remarks. They reach wherever Jim was leading them after a minute; he stops weaving through the shelves and pulls Len in closer. Len’s hands go automatically to Jim’s waist. They’re in between two tall rows of books; somehow the close proximity makes it feel more secluded than where Jim had been working. They’re pressed together, chest to chest; Jim has a leg in between his, and Len feels a fire spread from where his body is touching Jim’s all the way to the tips of his ears and down to his toes like his whole body is ready to ignite.

“Do you know why?” Jim asks, voice lowered to a growl. The sound goes straight to Len’s dick and he’s momentarily stunned by the change in Jim’s demeanor; he finds himself unable to answer, but Jim doesn’t seem to be expecting him to. “No one ever comes back here," he says and then they’re colliding. Jim pushes Len back against the bookshelf and kisses him. Hard. There’s teeth and then there’s tongue and Jim’s hands are fisting in Len’s soft, perfectly-styled hair and tugging just shy of painful; Len moans, opening his mouth and inviting Jim in deeper.

All too soon they’re breaking apart, breath coming in heavy pants. Jim’s pupils are blown wide, all Len can see is a thin ring of that bright turquoise. Len’s tongue darts out to lick across his lower lip and something snaps into place when Jim’s eyes are drawn to the motion. Len surges forward and shoves Jim back against the bookshelf with enough force that it rocks slightly; there’s a loud thud, indicating a few books have fallen off the opposite side. Len cups Jim’s face with one hand in an attempt to keep their next kiss softer and sweeter, despite contradicting his previous action. Jim’s hands scrabble desperately at the zipper on Len’s cadet uniform top. They break the kiss reluctantly, not wanting to be parted but pulling away to make it easier to remove shirts preventing skin to skin contact. The zipper on Jim’s gets stuck halfway and he gives up, taking the whole thing off over his head and throwing it halfway down the aisle when he finally gets his arms free. They crash back together like magnets. Jim reaches for Len’s shoulders, tugging him forward into another bruising kiss, while Len fumbles with Jim’s belt. 

Len finally has the buckle undone when he hears a shocked _Oh!_ that sounds much too feminine to have come from Jim. His heads snaps up from where he had dropped it to suck a mark high and possessive on Jim’s neck. Standing at the end of the aisle is a very embarrassed looking female cadet. Jim throws his head back against the bookshelf with a loud _thump_ in irritation at the interruption. She stutters something about coming back for the book she needs later and quickly turns to leave. Len can only imagine how debauched they must look, mussed hair and pants open and hanging on their waists.

“Dammit Jim!” Len says sharply. He smacks Jim across the chest, agitated over being caught. “I thought you said no one ever comes back here!” His voice comes out slightly breathy as he tries to regain control of his heart rate. It sends a hot flush of want all over Jim.

Jim huffs a laugh and pushes off the bookshelf bringing himself pressed fully up against Len again. “No one ever said I was right a hundred percent of the time.” He cocks his head and pretends to be deep in thought. “I’m more like ninety-nine point nine percent.”

Len shoves him back and bends down to collect clothes to hide his smile. “I’m not finishing this here like some damn teenager. My dorm’s closer, get your ass movin’ an’ you might jus’ get to come in the next few hours.” He shrugs back into his uniform top, zips it, and then pointedly hands Jim his.

Jim swallows and says nothing as he struggles back into his shirt. He follows obediently down to the end of the aisle before stopping Len with a hand on his arm and a mischievous smirk on his face. “Why Bones, what makes you think you’re gonna be running the show?” he asks innocently before jogging in the general direction of the exit.

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear,” Len mutters before heading after Jim at a pace that would make his instructors proud.


End file.
